


(a squall, and all of me is) a prayer in perfect piety

by Veridique



Series: fragile soft machines [3]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: (but i repeat myself), Discussions of Sexual Assault, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Polyamory, Title from a Hozier Song, but Jester and Cad aren't romantically involved with each other, discussions of avantika, polyam relationship is between all three
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:42:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24750271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veridique/pseuds/Veridique
Summary: He closes his eyes for a moment, enjoying the dual sensations of Jester’s hair between his fingers and his own between Caduceus’. He’s so caught up in the pleasure that he almost drops a section of Jester’s half-finished braid.When you juggle more than one, you risk dropping them all.“Jester, I need to talk to you.”Caleb tells Fjord to be careful with clerics’ hearts. Fjord finds some comfort for his own.
Relationships: Caduceus Clay & Fjord & Jester Lavorre, Caduceus Clay/Fjord, Fjord/Jester Lavorre, background one-sided Jester Lavorre/Caleb Widogast
Series: fragile soft machines [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1426393
Comments: 4
Kudos: 96





	(a squall, and all of me is) a prayer in perfect piety

“Both of the clerics are in love with you. I hope you’ve noticed by now.”

Caleb’s soft voice comes out of nowhere, but that’s par for the course with him. He and Fjord have been sitting up on watch for the last hour and a half, without a word, until now. 

“I…” Fjord almost denies it, on that old instinctual pull to keep his business to himself. But Caleb is a friend and, more importantly, not an idiot. “I have noticed.”

“You love them.” Caleb’s face finally turns toward Fjord, although his eyes are on the horizon, as always. “That wasn’t a question. You love them both.”

It wasn’t, but Fjord feels compelled to affirm it anyway. “I do.”

Caleb is silent, his mouth paused halfway to speaking in that way he does when he’s looking for the right words. Frumpkin is making his way around the camp, nosing at one person and then the next, seeking a warm bedroll to share. Fjord waits.

“Loving someone is tricky. Loving more than one makes it even trickier. I’m not telling you this to discourage you,” he adds, seeing Fjord’s response rise to his lips. “But unconditional loyalty is a hard promise to keep more than once.”

He isn’t wrong, Fjord reasons. “I don’t anticipate their needs conflicting. I protect our team, our family. If that includes the two people I love, all the better.”

“No conflict. Like when you spent your day breathing life into Jester’s lungs and then spent your night in a pirate’s bed.”

Fjord’s stomach churns. It’s a warm night, and he’s fully clothed, but he feels a chill that reminds him too much of cool ocean air on bare skin.

Frumpkin has nuzzled up to Jester. She’s sleeping on her stomach, and Frumpkin makes a place for himself on her back, between her shoulder blades. He kneads his paws into her a few times, then curls up, his tiny snout pressed against the side of her neck. For a moment, Fjord wishes he had the soft cat to rest as a scarf around his neck, then mentally kicks himself for begrudging Jester the comfort of a warm body.

“I did what I had to do.”

“You did.” Caleb’s voice isn’t accusatory, nor is it placating. He’s stating a fact; that’s all he’s done. Fjord forces a breath deep into his abdomen. “I’m not contesting that. I’m just saying that conflicts between what must be done and what you want are more common than you think.”

“Jester understands why I had to…”

“Does she? Did you ever talk to her?” From anyone else this would be a neutral question. Coming from Caleb, this is the closest thing to an accusation that Fjord’s heard tonight.

It’s the closest thing to an accusation that Fjord’s heard from Caleb, ever.

“I care for our tall friend and our blue friend, and for you.” Caleb’s words are half-slurred with sleep. It’s been a long day.

“I’m not going to hurt them,” Fjord promises, to himself as much as to Caleb.

“I know,” Caleb says, and sighs. “I know.”

He stares blankly at the ground. Fjord can’t tell if Caleb is done speaking, or if he’s just pausing to gather his thoughts. He’s still caught up on the reminder of Avantika and everything else he’s thrown into the sea that keeps returning on the rising tide.

“Hearts are fragile things, Fjord. And when you juggle more than one, you risk dropping them all.”

Fjord wants to defend himself, but Caleb isn’t attacking. Fjord wants to prove himself, but Caleb isn’t seeking evidence. 

“I love them,” Fjord says. It’s not enough; it’s all he has.

“You’re a good man, Fjord. I don’t doubt your intentions.” He pauses, eyes on the ground, before adding “You will keep them safe?”

It’s a needless question, especially considering both Jester and Caduceus have more healing abilities than Fjord, but Fjord takes it as seriously as an oath. “I will, always.”

“You’re a good man,” Caleb repeats. His eyes are unfocused, not unlike the way they go blank when he sees through Frumpkin’s eyes. The cat is still curled up against Jester, rising and falling with each of her slow, sleeping breaths.

A good man, Caleb said.

_Good enough, at least_ , Fjord thinks. But his insecurities creep in on him in the dark of night, until he’s less and less sure that Caleb wasn’t just being kind.

_I have to talk to them._

As their watch winds down, Fjord gets to his feet and moves toward Jester. Beau and Caduceus took first watch, so it’s Nott and Jester’s turn, but Caleb stops him. “I think Nott can handle the watch by herself, don’t you think? It’s quiet. We’ll let Jester sleep.”

Fjord looks toward Jester’s sleeping frame, to Frumpkin’s tiny soft body, to Caleb’s face. The light from their dying campfire is dim, but it’s enough for him to make out the vibrant blue in Caleb’s eyes. The eyes plead with him, but for what, he doesn’t know.

“All right,” he agrees.

“I’ll wake Nott. You should get some rest, Fjord.”

Fjord’s own bedroll has been commandeered by Beau, who seemingly couldn’t be bothered to unroll her own when she got off her watch. He looks between Caduceus, snoring lightly, and Jester, still with Frumpkin lying on her back. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Caleb watching him, watching them.

He doesn’t know why he chooses Caduceus’ bed. It’s not because it’s bigger or because Frumpkin scratches when he’s disturbed at night or any of the reasons he could use in the morning to justify his actions. But if the firbolg’s warmth doesn’t quell the shaking in his belly, well, at least it makes it easier to sleep through.

\--

The next day offers them little chance to talk. Fjord tries to put his thoughts together as they hurry through breakfast, but then the day progresses and his thoughts scatter again like playing cards in the hands of an unskilled dealer.

It’s evening before they have a moment of calm. Caduceus is making dinner, humming to himself as he selects his spices from his assortment of jars. Fjord approaches and only hesitates a moment before sneaking a quick kiss onto Caduceus’ cheek. If Caleb knows, then Nott knows, and Beau’s observant enough to have noticed, and at this point there’s no use in trying to keep it a secret. Still, Fjord feels like he’s getting away with something as Caduceus’ soft tuft of facial hair brushes against his cheek.

“Can I help?” he asks, and earns himself one of Caduceus’ big, easy smiles. He’s put to work chopping vegetables while Caduceus works his kitchen magic with a few handfuls of mushroom caps and some wonderful-smelling herbs.

Their dance around each other as they cook is far from effortless, but Fjord finds he likes it that much better for the care he puts in it. Wielding sharp knives and hot stew in close quarters with someone as tall as Caduceus is an art form, but Fjord learns to move slowly, to check where Caduceus is before whirling around with the next ingredient. Caduceus, clearly accustomed to working around others, calls out “behind” and “hot” and “sharp” whenever they’re appropriate, and the dance becomes exponentially easier as Fjord begins to mimic him.

Dinner is served, eaten, and appreciated, and Fjord feels his cheeks grow warm as Caduceus passes on some of the praise toward his sous-chef. He almost doesn’t want to make eye contact with Jester, for fear of her jealousy, but when he sneaks a glance, she’s beaming.

Later, he’s sitting on the ground with Jester in front of him, trying to braid her hair. He’s as gentle as he can be, but his bulky fingers tangle in her hair and tug enough to make her wince. He feels bad each time he sees her shoulders tense, but every time he tries to stop, she encourages him to “give it one more try, Fjord, you’re doing so good!”

He sees a shadow moving behind him and then feels a lanky body lower to a seated position behind him. “Can I make this into a braid train?” Caduceus’ harmonious voice asks.

Fjord nods. The only person who’s ever braided his hair was Jester, once, ages ago. It’s a strangely intimate act, but he has no fear as Caduceus’ fingers lift a portion of his hair from where his forehead meets his hairline, separate it into sections, and begin to work it into a plait. He closes his eyes for a moment, enjoying the dual sensations of Jester’s hair between his fingers and his own between Caduceus’. He’s so caught up in the pleasure that he almost drops a section of Jester’s half-finished braid.

_When you juggle more than one, you risk dropping them all._

“Jester, I need to talk to you.” His voice surprises even himself.

She turns her head toward him, as much as she can without pulling her hair. “Yeah, what’s up?”

He pauses to think, and the gap becomes so long that Caduceus asks “Oh, should I leave?”

“No! I mean, I’d appreciate having you here--if that’s all right with you, Jester.” 

“Yeah, Fjord, whatever you need.” Jester’s voice is a bit more apprehensive than it was before. This isn’t what he wanted. This is supposed to be his apology to her, and he shouldn’t be making her worry. 

“I…” His voice is soft and slow, each word laborious. “We never really talked about what happened with…”

He can’t say her name. It feels like a sin. It feels like asking for trouble.

“When we were at sea, with...Avantika.” The word is acid in his throat, and he makes a small noise to try and swallow the lump.

“Oh.” A pause. “I’m not mad, Fjord, it’s okay. I mean, she was really pretty, and it’s not like you and I were a _couple_ or anything like that. It’s okay.”

“It wasn’t right,” he says, “what I did to you. I should have told you about what was happening, about why I was doing all that.”

“I know why you did it, Fjord,” she says, and now she leans back and twists so he can see half her face, enough to see her teasing smile. “Like, she _really_ liked you, and she was super powerful, and the whole thing with Uk’otoa, I understand why you wanted to have sex with her. It makes sense. It’s okay.” She shrugs, as if everything that needs to be said has been.

Fjord shakes his head and lifts his hands out of her hair so she can properly turn around. The braid falls apart, with only the first few strands at the crown of her head remaining intertwined. “It wasn’t that at all.”

“Was it?” She grins and raises her eyebrows. It’s teasing, and he so badly wants to make it into a big joke of “oh, yes, I was so attracted to Avantika that I lost all good sense, how hilarious.” But he feels the strong fingers still stroking his hair, remembers how often Caduceus has recommended honesty, and he resists the urge to hide behind the joke.

“No, it wasn’t.” His tone is so serious that Jester’s smile vanishes. “I didn’t want to at all.” Caduceus’ fingers pause in his hair. “I was terrified of what she would do to all of us, and especially to all of you. I needed to get on her good side; I needed to make sure she wouldn’t have you all killed in your sleep. I had to make her think I was as committed to...to _him_ as she was.” Uk’otoa’s name sticks in his throat the same way Avantika’s had. “So I did what I had to do. It had nothing to do with having feelings for her. I never had feelings for her.” 

“Fjord.” Caduceus abandons Fjord’s braid the way he abandoned Jester’s and puts his hands on Fjord’s shoulders, squeezing affectionately.

“But I’m sorry I didn’t tell you all of that; I should have, but I didn’t--I wasn’t thinking about your feelings. And I’m sorry.”

“Fjord,” Caduceus says again, and when Fjord turns to look at him, his purple eyes are asking a thousand questions that Fjord can’t quite hear. “I think I had misunderstood what happened at sea, based on what you’re telling me now. I...I owe you an apology.”

“What?” 

“I thought the same thing as Jester: that you slept with Avantika because you had feelings for her. And I judged you, harshly, based on that.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” Fjord assures him. “It’s no big deal.”

“Fjord, you were assaulted.”

The air goes out of Fjord’s lungs, although he doesn’t remember exhaling.

“That’s not…”

“She had sex with you when you didn’t want it. That’s assault.”

“No, that’s not…” Fjord feels his head spinning in a spiral. “I initiated it. _I_ kissed _her_.”

“Under duress.”

“She wasn’t threatening me.”

“She threatened all of us within five minutes of us stepping on her ship.”

“If you only slept with her because you were scared she was going to kill your friends,” Jester whispers, “that means...she raped you, Fjord.”

He feels Caduceus’ forearms wrap under his armpits and hold him tight against Caduceus’ chest. He’s grateful for it a moment later, when he realizes all the strength has been sapped from his body. Jester turns to face him and presses her body in for a hug, and Jester in front of him and Caduceus behind him are the only things keeping him upright.

“It wasn’t like that,” he tries to protest, but his words ring hollow even in his own ears. Neither Jester nor Caduceus says anything, but Jester’s fingers squeeze tightly against his ribcage and Caduceus’ chest presses against Fjord’s back with each deliberate inhale. Their touches are so different from Avantika’s, gentle and kind and _wanted_ , that he starts shaking from the memory of the touches he only barely tolerated swimming up to drown him.

Jester brushes a finger against his face, and it’s then that he notices the dampness on his cheeks. He’s weeping.

“I’m sorry, Fjord,” she whispers. “I’m sorry you had to go through that to protect us. And I’m sorry I didn’t understand why you did it.”

“What I said when you came back from Avantika’s room,” Caduceus says, “that was cruel of me. I can’t imagine how much that must have hurt you.”

Fjord can’t remember the exact words, something about living with his bad decisions, but he remembers the sting he felt as he pulled his blanket up and tried to forget how Avantika’s greedy hands felt claiming his flesh for herself. “You didn’t know.” His voice is choked with the lump in his throat.

“I didn’t. It doesn’t erase the hurt.”

Jester holds his hands in hers, pressing the occasional kiss to his fingers. Caduceus settles his chin on Fjord’s shoulder, soft hair gently tickling Fjord’s neck. Their warmth comforts him more than he could have imagined.

“What can we do, Fjord?” Jester asks.

“I’m okay,” he says finally. “I think. I don’t need anything.”

“You don’t need anything,” Caduceus says, “but maybe the better question is what do you want?”

“You,” Fjord answers instantly. But singular and plural _you_ are the same in Common, and he quickly clarifies, “Both of you. I just want to be with you both.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Caduceus says.

“Me neither,” adds Jester.

“And neither are any of the others.” Caduceus blows out a long breath, ruffling Fjord’s half-braided hair.

Fjord knows he’s right, but just now, the two bodies that he’s balanced between seem infinitely more real than the abstract concept of _the others_ , the vague shapes he can half-see across the campfire. Jester and Caduceus’ touch, their security, their promises: these are the things he believes in. 

These are his faith, these two. His oaths, both given and received.


End file.
